One Man's Love Of A Synthetic Fabric

Sports Gear

Here’s a story that, like every one of my posts, is true. I hope you believe me. If you doubt me, I guess that’s okay, too. I mean, there’s nothing I can do about it, and I hope that you’ll still at least like the story. But again; this is 100% true.

1984. I was wearing my black parachute pants, and I was hanging out with my girlfriend Karen, her friend Jennifer, and Jennifer’s boy friend Corey. Yes. I’ll admit it; I had a huge crush on Corey. A very mixed up foursome. This night in particular, Corey was wearing Nike basketball pants that looked like they were satin, and a t-shirt tucked in. He had longish blond hair that just covered his ears. He was cool, also, because he had an actual earring in his left ear. One of those tough guy, pretty boys. I bet that if any guy challenged Corey to a fight, his tough image would crumble like the Berlin wall. But I thought that was charming, and kinda sexy.

The four of us had just seen the first “Police Academy” movie. I swear it. I didn’t pick the movie, and I seemed to be the only one who didn’t think it was a laugh riot. Anyway…it was Saturday night, and after the movie we took the bus back to Karen’s house. We went into her furnished basement and both of us started “making out” with our girlfriends. I was facing Corey, and even though I was into making out with my girlfriend, I found myself opening my eyes and watching Corey make out with Jennifer. He was way ahead of me that night and seemed to want to go farther. So we decided to open the sofa bed. Karen and I were both a bit nervous, as we really hadn’t gone much further than second base. And even then, I would run back to first nervously. But that night seemed to promise more, and the four of us layed down on the bed. From left to right it was Jennifer, Corey, me, then Karen. So, Corey and I had our backs to each other. No blankets or sheets to cover us up.

While I was making out with Karen, pretty heavily, I was constantly aware of Corey right behind me making out with his girlfriend. Suddenly, I felt a quick, (too quick,) brush of his ass against mine. Because I was wearing my nylon parachutes, and he was wearing shiny, slick basketball pants, the quick contact was slippery. I’d never felt such a rush of pure adrenaline and excitement as my bulge began to grow in my pants. I knew that Karen had no idea why I seemed more excited, except that it was due to making out with her. Her tongue and mine were moving around in our lip lock.

While I was afraid to push things by rubbing my ass against him, I couldn’t stand the waiting any more, and went ahead. I brushed my ass against his. I actually did it. I was waiting for some kind of “Stop that! What, are you gay?”, or him just changing places with Jennifer. But nothing happened. My dick at this point was rock hard at the beautiful feeling of two silky fabrics rubbing against each other. And the thought of two boys’ asses!

Needless to say, the frottage continued, and while he seemed to be getting further with Jennifer, the contact with me became increasingly hotter. Now, our asses were always up against the other’s. It felt so intense, and I’ll never forget the feeling. Or, what was going through my mind. I thought, maybe Corey is like me. Maybe he likes guys, too. MAYBE…he likes ME! But at that moment, I was mainly thinking about our asses, slickly, smoothly touching, and moving around each other.

The makeout session was ended abruptly when Karen’s mom called downstairs, “Karen! I think it’s time the boys left! Good night, Ryan. Goodnight, Corey.” I sadly and frustratingly got up, straightened my cock, and buttoned up my shirt. I rolled the sleeves up just past my elbow and tucked it in. Corey straightened himself out quickly, too.

We both left Karen’s house with a quick “‘night” to her mother. I walked out with Corey. He was going to the train station, and I was walking home. The same direction. Corey and I joked and talked as we walked. I wasn’t going to bring up what was going on in my head during our time on the couch, and Corey wasn’t talking either.

We got to the train station, and said our goodbyes. Corey walked away. I watched him go. I visually took in his satiny warm-up pants, his gray high-tops, his t-shirt and his cute now-mussed hair. Yes, I wished I had asked him to spend the night at my house. But I chickened out. We never mentioned that night again, and I lost touch a long time ago.

Yet, I’ll never forget his touch. Never.

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During warmer months, look around. I notice that tons and tons of guys wear shiny nylon shorts, jerseys, shirts, etc. Okay, they’re probably mainly made of polyester, not nylon, but they feel and look mostly the same.

It’s my assertion that these guys are completely aware of “the nylon obsession,” and they share a part of that, too. Think about it: These guys went to a store, picked them out, maybe tried them on, and then bought them. They rubbed the fabric of the shorts, in the store, between their fingers, and they absolutely had to have enjoyed the feeling. Part of their brain must have responded to the awesome tactile experience silky nylon shorts give. I firmly believe that the thought DID cross their minds: I like the way these feel. I think they’d be comfortable, and probably feel good to wear, too. Otherwise, they would have bought boring cotton shorts. And notice how many guys are either wearing boxers, or no underwear at all, with their nylon shorts. They have to like, or at the least, be aware of the feeling of the smooth fabric on their crotch. (I hate that word, too!)

If you know guys who seem to always wear silky nylon shorts, jerseys, or basketball pants, it is my belief that those guys have The Nylon Obsession. If they wear nylon shorts or pants, or even Under Armour gear, they must be wearing them because either they like the way they look in the nylon-esque clothing, or they like the way it feels against their skin. I’d bet anyone that if you could look through their underwear drawer, you’d find more than a couple pairs of silky briefs, or satin boxers. Why? Because now that they’ve started their own fetish for nylon, they want that feeling on everypart of their body. It must be a conscious choice on the part of the individual to seek out nylon clothes. When a guy has more than one pair of nylon pants (i.e. Under Armour, wind pants, etc.), odds are he has his very own case of Nylon Obsession.

So, it is my firm belief that boys/men are absolutely aware of the silky, slick feeling of 100% Nylon, and truly like the way it feels. They like it A LOT.